


The Titan and His Danseur

by Creme13rulee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Belly Kink, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Giant Viktor Nikiforov, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Penetration, Potions, Psuedo-Magic AU, Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smaller Yuuri Katsuki, Victor Nikiforov Has a Big Dick, Viktor is 9+ feet tall, Yuuri is 5 feet, do not copy to another site, harem au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22192849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme13rulee/pseuds/Creme13rulee
Summary: When the tsar’s servants picked an exotic treat for the tsar’s eldest, they did not expect him to be so pleased. Nor did anyone expect him to exclusively indulge in the man from the island nation half his height and smaller than his waist. But Viktor and Yuuri are inseparable, and while society may not be flexible, magic is.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 163





	The Titan and His Danseur

**Author's Note:**

> Visual: https://www.mrinitialman.com/OddsEnds/Sizes/sizes.html?base_ft=5&base_in=7&comp_ft=9&comp_in=0&fbclid=IwAR3JiYexBDAWd1VrFHCscg6faDQ9DAoR0HNrBECK2nR1ftOKvm0b26cBt_s
> 
> Yuuri is the same size as in canon, however everyone in ‘Russia’ is 9-10 feet. Everything else is scaled to size appropiate to the population size.

When they had first met, Yuuri was dancing. 

It had not been the first time he had seen people so small-- Japan was a few weeks journey, and other countries with smaller frames lied to the east and south. Yuuri had not been the only person taken by the Nikiforov crown. 

But he was the first one who stayed.

Viktor had watched him from the first note of the song to the last, and then on until he was sequestered to the lower table where the rest of the chosen harem ate. There were women and men, taller and smaller than Viktor. He was young enough to have not settled on his taste-- not that it mattered. Like his father, he would marry someone chosen for him, their names written on a contract.

Nikiforov’s hadn’t married for love in generations.  
But Viktor had fallen in love at first sight-- at the very least, fallen in love with the music Yuuri’s body made as he moved, spinning on his toes, light as air. He stared at him over golden bowls of soup and platters of bread. He didn’t dare look away when Yuuri’s eyes met him over the much simpler fare the harem’s table was served. His gaze had been piercing-- something Viktor later learned was due to his nearsightedness-- but it had peaked his interest.

Viktor had invited him into bed the next evening.

Viktor had twisted his hair and paced his bedroom until the knock finally came. Lilia delivered Yuuri to Viktor, draped in fine sheer cloth and silver jewelry. Stiff and terrified. His lips had parted in wonder at Viktor’s outfit-- the same embroidered vest and buttoned trousers he had spent the day in. Certainly nothing easily torn off or worn to bed.

“I want to know how to dance,” Viktor had offered awkwardly. Yuuri’s head had been tilted backward, straining to look up at him. Standing together, the height difference was more drastic than Viktor had obsessed over. Yuuri’s head met the front seam of Viktor’s britches. If Viktor was truly interested in a harem, Yuuri would not have to kneel to pleasure Viktor with his mouth. He would stand-- maybe on his tiptoes-- if he could even fit Viktor in his mouth.

A dangerous thought to think with someone so close.

But Yuuri had agreed, nodding slowly. Their first lesson began with Yuuri standing on the table in Viktor’s sitting room, demonstrating carefully with fistfulls of gauzey fabric pulled away from his feet.

Viktor had requested Yuuri’s company every night-- and every night he arrived, perfumed and powdered for him. Before a week was over, Viktor ordered a pajama set from a trading company. Offering his own clothing had been too intimate, even if it wouldn’t drown Yuuri.

Later on, the dancing faded into more comfortable time together-- listening to music as Viktor showed his collection of illustrated books, or having tea together before they retired to bed.

The first night Yuuri hadn’t slept. Viktor had pretended to, but he knew Yuuri had spent the entire time on a pillow like an oversized cushion. Viktor was forgetful, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew Yuuri was scared. After all, all members of the harem were prepared before being escorted to Viktor. Yuuri had probably been stretched, and warned not to cry out when he was inevitably torn apart. He knew that unless he was lucky, he was likely on the way to his death bed. The Crown, after all, never indulged in potions. It was too dangerous. And there was no other way.

So Viktor waited. He waited until Yuuri relaxed around him enough to sleep, then enough to sleep cradled against his too-fast beating heart.

“I’m not a doll,” Yuuri had muttered when the trunk had arrived with clothing for Yuuri. Viktor’s cheeks had burned, and Yuuri had flinched, expecting to be struck to the ground for such insolence.

“You’re not. I just… I wanted you to be comfortable.” Viktor wrung his hands. Yuuri had softened at that, pulling a cozy cable-knit sweater from the top of the pile.

Viktor watched, ashamed.

“These aren’t from home,” Yuuri mumbled, running his hand over the raised knit pattern.  
Yuuri was right. They wore clothing based on squares and that layered easily, tied around the waist with belts. Yuuri’s people rarely bothered with buttons and clasps.

“I know-- I paid someone to make them. I didn’t want you to feel like you stood out--” Viktor felt his face warm at Yuuri's fond expression.

“I don’t really stand out. I’m more underfoot.” He said, before he outright smiled, and Viktor’s heart sang.

Viktor tried his best-- but sometimes he struggled. Ordering clothing on his own was easy, but tableware was out of the question. Only kitchen staff did that, and none of them dared look Viktor in the eye like Georgi did.

So Yuuri continued to have to sip tea from a cup that looked more like a soup pot, the fine boneware china requiring both of his hands’ support. He ate with his hands, or with two fine maple branches he shaved clean on the arm-length blade of a kitchen knife. Their nights together blended into days, then months. Soon Viktor couldn’t imagine a day without his little Yuuri, and because he was the eldest son, he was indulged.

Until he stupidly put words to his feelings.

“You look happy.” Chris had smiled over a flute of champagne that stood nearly as tall as Yuuri. He was performing for the court, dressed decadently enough that Viktor ached to put his hands on him.

“I love him.” Viktor had smiled back, his heart fluttering when Yuuri’s eyes met his in the middle of a spin.

The next morning, he was called into his father’s chambers.

“Vitya. Sit.” The tsar had commanded, and Viktor did so. He was unhappy about having to leave the game of chess he had been playing against Yuuri. He did his best to look bored and unenthused by the random, sudden business.

“We are ending the harem.” His father said plainly. Viktor’s heart stopped.

“Ending?” His throat felt dry. He wished for tea, lovingly brewed by Yuuri and sweetened with plum jam.

“You’re wasting your time playing with that toy, and it has become inappropriate.”

“He’s not a toy.” Viktor’s expression darkened. “How is it inappropriate? I’m a product of the harem, aren’t I?” His words were bitter and venomous. Yuri, after all, was the product of ten years of trying and secretive potions and charms. Viktor had been born from a silver-haired woman he hadn’t seen since he could walk.

“You’re in love with one of them, Viktor.”

“A Japanese man? Our ally?” Viktor rose from his chair.

“A small one. One barely tall enough to hold a soul.”

Anger and bile rose in his throat. “You take Yuuri from me, and you won’t have a son to worry over.”

\---

“You’re angry.” Yuuri had whispered, pulling his hands through Viktor’s hair tenderly, his own spread out on the pillow beneath him.

“I love you,” Viktor tried to force himself to relax. But Yuuri didn’t have it.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, pulling his arms up to his chest.

“No-- I…” Viktor sighed, grunting in frustration. “I could never be.”

Yuuri’s mouth twisted into a flat line.

“My parents don’t approve of my feelings for you.” Viktor sighed, Yuuri’s hand resting on his cheek.

He never craved a hand large enough to cup his jaw. Yuuri’s touch held so much more.

Even though he was putting on a brave face, Viktor knew it was bothering him.

“F--forget about it.” Yuuri sat up, twisting down the bed sheets until his fingers tucked under the waistband of Viktor’s pajamas.

“Yuuri--” Viktor’s stomach tightened, pleasure curling in the pit of it when Yuuri’s hands pulled him free of his underwear.

“Ah, Yuuri--” Viktor moaned as Yuuri shyly kissed the tip of his cock, his cheeks burning a delicious pink. “Yuuri-, stop.”

“No,” Yuuri hummed into Viktor’s skin, licking a wet stripe up the sensitive side of his shaft.

“Yuuri, stop-- if you sprain your jaw again--” Viktor’s word slipped away at the simple sight of Yuuri’s mouth on him and Yuuri’s hands pushed down the front of his pants.

Viktor shuddered in pleasure, reaching out for Yuuri as he worked him into pieces.

“Please.. Let me help you..” Viktor picked Yuuri up by the waist, his hands easily circling it. Yuuri was flustered, his pants hanging off his knees. He curled-- his entire body when Viktor licked him, a breathy keen escaping his lips at the overwhelming sensation.

“You… You… use my… thighs--aah!” Yuuri’s toes curled again at Viktor’s wet tongue.

“I wish I could be inside you, my Yuuri.” Viktor purred, bringing his lover to orgasm with one last lick.

Yuuri’s eyelashes fluttered, his chest heaving and skin buzzing with pleasure. “You could,” He murmured shyly.

“If only.” Viktor purred, brushing his hands down Yuuri’s still-sensitive body

“Ah-ahn-- ah-- p--potion,” Yuuri curled around Viktor’s touch, his face red and warm.

“I told you before… we can’t. No elixirs can touch a Nikiforov’s lips. There’s no way to tell if it will be a curse or a blessing.”

“But I can.” Yuuri crawled up Viktor’s body, his feet working Viktor’s cock from the base as he lay on his stomach his arms reaching up toward Viktor’s face.

Viktor’s mind stuttered. “O-okay.”

He hadn’t meant it as permission, but judging by the mischievous spark in his eyes, Yuuri had.

\--

Viktor spend the next day alone, unhappy and bitter about it until Yuuri arrived in the velvet cloak Viktor had bought him, a heavy burlap sack tucked under his arm.

Most of it contained a strawberry larger than Yuuri’s head, red ripe and juicy. The rest of it held two glass bottles, the neck of which properly fit Yuuri’s mouth.

“My love,” Viktor had cooed, Yuuri proudly setting his bounty on the bedside table. “What have you done?”

“One for me and you…” Yuuri touched the greener potion. “And another… for all of me… and to show your parents.”

Yuuri tucked the parchment with written instructions behind a book in one of Viktor’s more neglected bookcases. But Viktor was forgetful, not stupid, and he pulled it out while Yuuri was bathed and rubbed with aromatic oils per tradition of the Nikiforov harem.

Magic was common, but it required sacrifice. The potion deemed for them alone had a few sign affects, other than nausea and the possibility of the designated area not returning to original size.

Yuuri had bought a charm to grow to fit Viktor inside him.

The second potion had a warning list that filled the page-- sickness, muscle pain, fever. Bleeding.

Maximum height of eight feet.

Yuuri had purchased an elixir to grow to a size closer to Viktor and his family.

Viktor’s heart ached.

But it was too late-- the first potion had been uncorked, a sip taken from it already.

Yuuri didn’t abandon the traditional clothing this time, crawling onto Viktor’s bed, the fabric catching on a bed post and baring his naked hips.

He didn’t look any bigger. 

But Viktor salivated at the idea of Yuuri sitting so pretty on top of him, of moving inside Yuuri until he cried out and begged for more.

“Did you…?” Yuuri just smiled, and Viktor felt weak. He traced a hand down Viktor’s chest, his hand just small enough to cover the head of Viktor’s already-hard cock.

“Oh, Yuuri…” Viktor didn’t know if it was a curse or a prayer. He dove forward, rearranging the pillows on their shared bed. “Lay back.”

Yuuri sank into the pillows, the gauze fabric pulling back until it pooled around his naked body.

Yuuri could be very erotic one moment and an angel the next-- in both looks and appearance.

“Are you--?” Viktor knew vaguely of the machine, of the contraption they strapped men onto so servants never touched those meant for the tsar. Viktor didn’t like it-- but tradition demanded it, so he was only able to spare Yuuri from it all but twice a month.  
Yuuri nodded, flushed and eyes sparkling with wantonness. 

“I want you in me, Vitya,” Yuuri breathed.

“Anything for you,” Viktor shuddered. He arranged himself, resting his tip at Yuuri’s entrance. He paused, relished the feeling of it, before pushing a little pressure.

“Yuuri?” Viktor looked up at him. “Yuuri, breathe.” He waited until he saw Yuuri’s stomach expand with breath and relax.

He cried out with just the sensation of Viktor’s tip inside him.

“Yuuri?”

“Ah--”

“Breathe, love.” 

Viktor slowly sank into him, inch by tortuous inch.

“Does it hurt?” Viktor froze, before Yuuri’s legs kicked at his thighs. 

“Ahn---nnn, don’t stop,” Yuuri slurred, bucking his hips up. Viktor moved in and out of him in one long, slow stroke before Yuuri opened his eyes.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Yuuri answered. Viktor paused anyway, entranced by Yuuri’s look of awe as he stared at where they were joined.

“Feel good?”

Yuuri didn’t answer, his hand ghosting over the swell of his stomach, the bump that moved with Viktor, growing and shrinking as Viktor pushed in and pulled.

“So full,” Yuuri’s back arched, his toes curling when Viktor adjusted-- just a little, not too much. Yuuri was no taller and no wider-- it just somehow fit.

Viktor pushed again, still too nervous to go very fast. But Yuuri didn't seem to mind, pushing himself up onto his elbows to stare at his distended belly.

“Hurt?” Viktor grunted. 

“Kind of… like it…” Yuuri reached for his own cock, stroking it slowly around the swell of his stomach. “You fill me up. I’m stuffed full of you.”

Viktor smiled brightly, his breath stolen from the orgasm Yuuri’s simple words brought him to.

“S--stay. Please.” Yuuri begged, reaching for Viktor when he started to pull out.

“Of course-- you need to finish.”

“No-- just-- stay inside.” Yuuri gasped, grinding down on Viktor’s dick, his grip tight half-moons on Viktor’s wrists.

“Mouth too?” Viktor panted, and Yuuri’s eyes flew open. Yuuri kissed back the best he could, his breath through his nose shallow and fast. Yuuri came, making a mess between them, coming again when they changed positions, Viktor rolling onto his back with Yuuri above him, loose languid and flushed.

“Is this weird?” Yuuri panted, his legs in an easy split that Viktor couldn’t do in his dreams, grinding further down onto his monstrous cock.

“It’s perfect.”

\---

Their night entangled together barely made up for the next day.

Yuuri couldn’t bare to be touched, hidden under the sheets as his body screamed and cracked and skin burned with the potions complicated magic. Viktor waited beside the bed, a glass of water with a straw cupped in his hands, ready to be offered when the sheets moved in that certain way.

Yuuri tried to be brave, but he still cried out in pain. He whimpered even as he took over his side of his bed, his feet finally reaching toward the footboard.

Viktor dressed Yuuri in his own clothing, heart breaking at the painful grimace and struggle it took Yuuri to sit up.

His eyes sparkled though, as he looked right into Viktor’s eyes. His hand moved over Viktor’s, fitting perfectly over, folding Viktor’s hands in his.

He stood on shaking, weak knees-- and Viktor sighed in an odd relief. Even with the position and the sheer mass the potion had loaned Yuuri, he still was not as tall as Viktor. Yuuri was the perfect height to kiss between his eyebrows.

“Okay?” Viktor took a few uneasy steps with him, holding Yuuri up by the arm.

“Hurts,” A bead of sweat slid down the side of Yuuri’s face, but he smiled. He only had to lift his eyes, not crane his neck to take in Viktor.

“I can’t make you do this, love.” Viktor whimpered instead of Yuuri. “I can’t.”

“Twelve hours…” Yuuri stubbornly stepped forward, his knees weak and shaky. Makkachin poked her nose through the doorway, her wet nose twitching curiously.

“Then my parent’s can wait.” Viktor lead Yuuri back to bed. He felt stupidly selfish to enjoy Yuuri’s weight on top of him-- double or triple what it normally was. He enjoyed the awkward way Yuuri folded around him now.

But he couldn’t enjoy Yuuri in pain.

“You don’t have to do this for me, Yuuri. If they won’t let me marry you, we’ll leave together. I promise.” Viktor murmured, soothed to some insane degree with Yuuri’s dead weight.

“I wanted to know, too.” Yuuri mumbled, sounding a little more comfortable.”I wanted to know.. What it was like to be the same.”

“I don’t need to be the same. I love you.. I love you when you’re small or when you’re--”

“Not small. You’re big.” Yuuri mumbled, a swallowed-back laugh shaking his shoulders.

Viktor grinned so hard it hurt. “In Russia---”

“In Japan..” Yuuri teased, rolling onto his side so he could face Viktor. “Yes.”

“What?” Viktor frowned, staring into the sparkling brown eyes of his lover.

“Yes. I’ll marry you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I got an idea during my commute and wrote it??
> 
> Follow me on twitter @cremewrites for YOI and dog content


End file.
